


would you lie with me and just forget the world

by biochemprincess



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Grey's Anatomy References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 11:36:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4605234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biochemprincess/pseuds/biochemprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>{she's so beautiful, dressed in the midnight blue ball gown. fake crystals sparkle like stardust. she smiles. it's a beautiful night. their undercover mission went according to plan. everything is going to be alright. she's so beautiful as she walks up to his room. until the world breaks apart.} </p><p> [AU; post-season 1. major character death.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	would you lie with me and just forget the world

**Author's Note:**

> for jemmasimmuns. she's encouraged this nonsense. inspired by grey's anatomy, in particular the season 2 finale and the first episode of season 3.

* * *

 

_{she's so beautiful, the sunlight glinting off her face, as she talks about the first law of thermodynamics. she resembles a goddess. and she is.}_

 

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Jemma Simmons isn't patient.

She doesn't do anything patiently. Never has, never will. She works passionately and fiercely and quickly, with a burning passion that could outrun the sun. Every little task is fueled by the desire to know and to achieve. Patience might be a virtue, but it isn't hers. Waiting is the worst punishment for her, even plain things like incubation times feel endless.

Jemma Simmons isn't patient, simple as that.

Holding his hand now, her tiny warm hands wrapped around his cold one, has nothing to do with patience. She would sit with him for an eternity, if it meant to not leave him ever again.

Hours pass.

His words still hunt her. In between his breaths they echo inside her head.

Days pass.

The world stops turning, time slows down.

Weeks pass.

Hope is an emotion locked up so deep inside her, she feels like Pandora's Box. She fears it might be for nothing.

And suddenly, one day, he wakes up. Just like that.

 

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_{she's so beautiful, dressed in the midnight blue ball gown. her smile outshines whole galaxies. his eyes never leave her. the picture burns into his memory.}_

 

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"Oh, Fitz." It feels so good to say it again. It feels right, like the universe is back to it's established order. "I'll be back soon. But we really need to crash the HYDRA party."

"And you need to be dress --- dressed like --- ?" He gestures at her dress and she gets the idea. Sometimes the words don't come out like he wants them to. But they'll make it work. Jemma knows.

Her hands skip over the heavy fabric of the ball gown. "It's a ball, so yes. Though I don't really understand why HYDRA feels the need to throw a ball." After a short pause she asks sheepishly: "Do you like it?"

Fitz nods excitedly and Jemma laughs.

"You feel alright?" She cheeks the monitors again. The doctors had injected a thrombolytic drug this afternoon, to dissolve a clot in his lung. But everything looks good now.

He nods again. "Go. I'll be --- be fine. You can tell me how it went afterwards."

"And then we'll talk?"

"And then we can talk."

Jemma puts a kiss on his cheek, soft - sweet - innocent. They'd have time for everything later.

 

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_{she's so beautiful, dressed in the midnight blue ball gown. fake crystals sparkle like stardust. she smiles. it's a beautiful night. their undercover mission went according to plan. everything is going to be alright. she's so beautiful as she walks up to his room. until the world breaks apart.}_

 

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"Simmons."

"Simmons."

"Simmons."

People call her name, people stare at her. She can see tears in their eyes. But hers are dry.

"The lysis of the blood clot has side effects. It practically suspends coagulation for some time. Cerebral bleeding is a side effect. It only happens in 1% of all cases. I should've told him. I should have warned him."

Analytical.

Yes.

This is how she'll make it work.

She'll talk about it like she's just a bystander, like it's just another case, like he's not her best friend, like he's not dead.

"Simmons."

She lies in the hospital bed, together with him. His body is already cold. His lips are a strange kind of blue. It must look silly, how she clings to him in her ball gown.

"Simmons. This is not Fitz anymore. You need to let go."

She grabs his body even harder. He's so cold. Fitz never used to be cold. He was always radiating heat, like a heater. In summer he always complained about it, but in winter they'd cuddle up in their beds and watch shitty movies together.

She had never realized how much she wanted them to be 'more than that'.

Tears are streaming down her face, finally. Finally she's allowed to cry. Something breaks inside her heart, something nobody will ever be able to mend again. All those pieces, they'll never fit again. The sharp edges cut everything inside her open.

Somebody touches her, it's Trip. Jemma knows what he plans, but she only grips Fitz's body harder. She can't let him go. If she let's go he'll leave her forever. She only got him back, it's not fair to take him from her again.

Trip scoops her up in his arms and carries her out of the room. Her tears stain his smoking.

 

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_{she's so beautiful, dressed in her midnight blue ball gown, still. the tears on her face sparkle like crystals.}_

 

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Her legs are placed in an awkward angle. The bathroom is too small to lay on the floor with the door closed. She accomplishes it anyway. Jemma Simmons is a scientist, a biochemist, a nubile young prodigy, she can do anything.

_Except save her best friend._

The tiles under her cheeks feel cold. She doesn't know if it's true or not, doesn't know if it's an actual feeling or muscle memory. It should feel cold, she thinks.

She doesn't feel at all. She feels too much. Pain, emptiness, devastation, loneliness, like a missing limb, like broken bones, like a beating heart ripped from her chest.

She is suffocating.

There is air, more than she can breathe. Her lungs function. But it feels like drowning on dry land.

It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

There's nothing left to matter anymore.

Hands are touching hers, softly probably. Jemma can see it but she doesn't feel it. Everything is numb, a world in a snowstorm. Brown eyes look at her, red-rimmed from crying.

"I don't know what to tell you, Simmons."

"I don't know either." She whispers. The voice comes from her throat, but it's not her own. Only living people can talk. And she is not alive, not anymore. She is dead, like Fitz is. Dead people cannot talk. And yet her vocal cords ---

_you've been beside me the whole damn time_

Not anymore.

She wants to scream, but there's not a single sound leaving her throat. Wolves howl when they cry, but what's the sound of broken girls?

"Simmons. You need to get up."

_i can't._

"Did they take his body away already?"

Skye nods. "May is --- with him."

_good. may is gentle. may can handle it._

"We need to call his Mum."

Skye nods again. "We will." She says with tearful voice.

Words spill out of her mouth, but they are only hollow, fragile shells. They're smoke and ash, they taste of absinthe. One word turns into another, drops turn into rivers until she drowns in an ocean of her own words.

"I wish I could tell you how I feel, but I can't. I wish I could remember the first law of thermodynamics. I wish I could find comfort in everything I said to him, when we were trapped in that box. I wish I had been with him. I wish I could bring him back. I wish I could take his place. I wish I could bring him back."

Skye stays with her, on the bathroom floor, holding her tiny cold hands in her warm ones. They cry together. But it doesn't help. It doesn't soothe the pain.

 

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_{well,my mum always said that you shouldn't be afraid because it's just like the way life was before you were born which wasn't that bad, was it?}_

 

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The faces change. Skye turns into Trip turns into Coulson turns into May.

May is the first who doesn't talk, May spends the night with her on the floor. May doesn't want answers. May only exists in the same space as her. She's not demanding a reaction, they're only exiting.

But even that's too much.

"It hurts. Existing. Breathing. It hurts."

"I know."

"How do I make it stop?"

"You let go."

"I can't."

"Not now. One day."

 

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_{the midnight blue gown is an armour, but she can't wear it anymore. she lets may pull down the zipper. she steps out of it, wrapping her hands around her body, holding the pieces together. he hopes she'll learn to live without him. one day.}_

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**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think about it. Feedback is very much appreciated :)  
> You can also find me @ mightyjemma.tumblr.com


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